


Life In Tune

by JulietsEmoPhase



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Muggle, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Meet-Cute, Music, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-28
Updated: 2015-04-28
Packaged: 2018-03-26 05:02:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3838111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JulietsEmoPhase/pseuds/JulietsEmoPhase
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Up and coming producer Draco Malfoy needs a new voice to save his latest record, but he highly doubts Harry Potter is what he's looking for.</p><p>Muggle AU. Fluffy Drarry. No Smut. Birthday present!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Life In Tune

**Author's Note:**

> This is a little Non-Magic AU I wrote as a birthday present for the gorgeous Leia, who goes by DIYDrarry on Tumblr. 
> 
> Mild bad language. No smuttiness in this one (there just wasn’t time!) but it’s fun and flirty all the same. Enjoy! Especially Leia, happy birthday darling xJx

 

Life In Tune

 

   Draco Malfoy hefted his leather boots up onto the edge of the recording desk and leant back in agitation against his chair, taking a long drag on his eCigarette.  He was stuck with the blasted thing as they wouldn’t let him smoke his real ones inside, but when the record label were putting him under this amount of stress, what was he supposed to do?  Go outside every time he needed a fag?  Nothing would ever get done.

   _Not that much was getting done today anyway_ , he thought ruefully, running his hand through the blond hair that was spilling into his eyes.  The frustrating thing was this girl Leia he was working with had such a great voice, her stuff was fresh and he just knew she was going to be sensational.  All brilliant albums were bound to have hiccups he supposed, inhaling the nicotine vapour again, but he just wished they weren’t having to deal with yet _another_ one.

   At least he was getting paid by the hour he mused, and considered re-listening to the work they had recorded that morning.  He started playing around with the deck, cueing up some of the bare bone of the less developed tracks, when the door clicked open.

   Leia’s manager, a woman named Granger, stuck her head round the side, revealing only hair scraped into an elegant knot and the quirk of a smile on her face.

   “I believe we have solved the problem of track three,” she said, pleased with herself.

   That caught Draco’s attention instantly.  “Who?” he demanded, discarding his miserable attempt at a fag, swinging his chair around and leaning forward eagerly on his knees.  “Tell me you found someone.”

   “His name’s Harry Potter,” Granger informed him.  “You wouldn’t have heard of him I don’t think, but his voice is absolutely perfect.”

   Draco groaned and flopped back in his chair.  “May I be struck down from boredom,” he intoned to the ceiling of the production booth.  “How could someone with such a dull name possibly be any good?”

   Granger quirked an eyebrow.  “Because Draco Malfoy is your _real_ name,” she stated, dead pan.

   Draco just scowled.  “You couldn’t get me Labrinth?  Ed Sheeran?  I’d take that boy from X-Factor at this rate!  This track is going to have people _weeping_ and you want me to feature some nobody with a name that makes me want to literally fall asleep?”

   Granger blinker.  “You’re doing it again,” she said.

   “What?” he snapped.

   “Being a whiny little bitch.”

   With a smirk, she clipped the door shut again, leaving Draco to fume.  Well, what harm could it do to hear the boy out?  He assumed Granger had gone to fetch him judging by the look on her face, so he diligently began to set up their most completed track, destined for the third spot on the album and penned to be Leia’s first single.  They were going to give Adele a run for her money if it killed him.

   Through the window in front of him he saw the door swing inwards, Granger leading the way, followed by what must have been Harry Potter.

    Draco sat up straight, his interest suddenly piqued.  The man stood a foot or so higher than Granger’s petite form, with olive skin and solid shoulders judging by the outline of his not-too-tight long sleeved t-shirt.  His stonewashed jeans were loose but clung in just the right way to his hips, and he wore a grey wool beanie on his head, with just a few licks of inky hair escaping from underneath.  Behind black rimmed glasses, Draco could just about make out eyes so green they caught the studio lights like emeralds as he took a look around, appreciating the facility.

   He may have had a boring name, and might not be able to hold a note for toffees, but good lord Draco was willing to bet he was a cat in the sack.

   Through the thick glass and padded walls he couldn’t hear a word as this Harry talked with Granger, but next thing he knew she was exiting the room once more and Harry was picking up the nearest set of fat headphones to slip over his head.

    Draco pressed the intercom and gave the other man a smile.  This was his show after all, he wasn’t going to let a handsome stranger get him flustered.  “Mr Potter,” he said coolly, give him his most dashing smile.  “A pleasure to meet you.”

   “You too Mr Malfoy,” Harry said, leaning just the right distance into the microphone.  Something slid down Draco’s spine as his voice rumbled over the speakers.  Well, that was a good start, he admitted as Granger slipped back into the room and took the empty chair beside Draco.  If he sang half as enticingly as he spoke, then maybe they weren’t completely screwed after all.

   He glanced at Granger, who merely gave him a little rise of the eyebrows in return.   “Alright,” Draco continued, his finger still on the intercom.  “Shall we just give it a bash?  I take it you are familiar with the song?”

   Considering he could only have been drafted in a few hours ago, Draco was a little surprised when Harry merely gave him a single nod, a smile dancing on his lips, hands slipped comfortably into his jeans pockets. 

    _Fine_ , Draco thought.  If he wanted to be a cocky bastard, that’s the way they’d play it.  “Excellent,” he beamed.  “I’ll just cue it up from the start of the second verse shall I?”

   “Perfect,” Harry told him, and Draco brought the music up, fingers on the slides, fastidiously monitoring the levels.

   The male backing kicked in on the second chorus, continuing through the bridge and into the repeating, built-up choruses that finished the song.  Draco knew exactly what he was expecting, and yet the moment Harry opened his mouth he found his head snapping up, his jaw dropping ever so slightly. 

   This man had obviously swallowed some sort of angel.  His voice was like melting caramel; he effortlessly moved his way through the secondary part of the song, complimenting Leia’s own sweet intonation with his own deep reverberations in a way that sent shivers down his spine. 

   He glanced over to see an appallingly smug Hermione Granger.

   “Gloating is unbecoming,” Draco told her snippily as the track faded out and he turned his attention back to Harry Potter.  “That wasn’t bad at all,” he told him through the system, unable to help the smile curling up one side of his face.  “How about we break it down by section and try a few things from there?”

   Harry was beaming; the git knew full well how amazing he was.  “Sounds good to me,” he thrummed down the mic.

   If Draco was honest, they only really needed two or three takes of each bit.  But he couldn’t help himself, he kept asking Harry to try it slightly different ways, seeing what he was capable of, how well he took direction, all the while denying internally that he just couldn’t get enough of his voice.

   After pushing for a seventh take on the penultimate, climatic chorus, he had to admit if he carried on any more he would start to look suspicious.  So after a couple of hours, he reluctantly opened the comms again.  “Nice work Potter,” he said, trying for nonchalance but maybe, possibly coming across a little fan boyish.  “I think we can call that a day.”

   “Thank you very much for this opportunity Mr Malfoy,” Harry replied, dipping his lips closer to the microphone in a way Draco wasn’t entirely convinced was fair.  “It’s been a pleasure.”

   Draco swallowed.  “Pleasure’s been all mine,” he assured with a wave of the hand, leaning back and letting the line close. 

   Granger was staring at him.

   “What?” he demanded with a scowl.

   “Yes,” she said in a mocking tone, getting to her feet and smoothing down the front of her buttoned up blazer jacket.  “Utterly boring, won’t captivate the record companies at all.”

   She sauntered out of the studio and fetched their songbird from the other room, leaving Draco along once again. 

   He tapped his boots on the floor with nervous energy, backing up all the files they’d just captured and puffing on that blasted eCigarette.  From what he’d heard he was just going to have the luxury of piecing together his favourite takes, the vocals were so good auto tuning would barely be necessary.  But Draco was distracted, his eyes flicking from where Harry had been stood in front of him, to the door to his right, and back again. 

   “Sod it,” he said aloud, hastily triple saving the files even as he stood, grabbing his trilby and flipping it on his head, winding his long chequered scarf around his neck and banging through the recording room’s door as he shrugged his jacket over his shoulders.

   He paused only a moment to lock the door, then marched down the studio’s corridor, trying hard not to look like he was in a rush.  Rounding the corner to the lobby he forced himself to slow down and stroll, fishing his pack of real fags from his pocket, and flopped down onto the ring of sofas opposite the reception desk.  Harry Potter looked up from where Granger had obviously left him filling out the necessary paper work on a clipboard.  His expression slipped into mild amusement upon seeing Draco next to him.

   Draco popped open the top of his fag pack.  “Reckon you’ve saved our song there,” he said, raising an eyebrow a smile slowly crept onto the vocalist’s face.  He was going for flippancy, but something about this guy had Draco’s usually icy heart threaten to do something abhorrent, like flutter. 

   “That so?” Harry asked.

   Draco slipped one of the cigarettes from its packet, pocketed the rest, and began to roll it delicately between his fingers like a coin.  “Well, the others we tried were disastrous, so my standards aren’t exactly sky high right now.”

   Harry snorted and stuck his tongue between his teeth.  “You are quite the charmer Draco Malfoy,” he said. 

   “Which is why,” he said, glancing out at the busy London street as the February light began to dwindle.  “I thought I’d offer to take you for a pint.  Seems the least I can do for my saviour in a sound booth.”

   Harry leant in a little closer.  His eyes were just as emerald green as Draco had suspected.  “Well,” he said, toying with the pen in his hand.  “That sounds like a good place to start.”  He flicked his eyes up and down Draco’s body in a way that did something delightful to his skin, and grinned.  “For now.”

 

End

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, please review! To discover more of my writing, visit www.helenjuliet.com


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